


To Let You Know We Made Mistakes

by PrincessAmericaChavez



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mutual Pining, Time Shenanigans, Time Skips, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-27 15:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmericaChavez/pseuds/PrincessAmericaChavez
Summary: It's been two years since The Traveler summoned his followers to a meeting in the outskirts of Zadash.It's been two years since The Mighty Nein last saw Jester Lavorre.





	1. Emptiness Left Behind

Two years. It's been exactly two years since Fjord last saw Jester Lavorre disappear down the street, skipping cheerfully. It feels like a lifetime ago, like he has aged decades with every passing month. It also feels like just yesterday. As he looks at the luxurious entrance of the Lavish Chateau, he can feel the memory of her all around him, like a ghost made of giggles, ocean blue skin and the faint smell of cinnamon. His stomach twists into knots as he braces himself for the meeting. At least, he's not alone. Beau stands close enough to him that he can feel her shoulder brush his arm with quiet support. On his other side, Caduceus breathes calmly, his presence soothing as ever. Caleb, Nott, and Yasha stand behind them.

"I hate this," Nott sighs.

"Yeah, me too," Beau grumbles. "It sucks, but we owe it to Jessie."

"Ja," is all Caleb contributes.

Fjord won't admit it, but he agrees with Nott. As much as he knows Jester would want them to look after her mother in her absence, it doesn't make it any easier to stand there and see into the eyes of an orphaned mother. The first time was the worst, though, by far. Seeing Marion's gentle eyes as their words settled, as she understood why they were there without her daughter, as the last glimmer of hope died down and morphed into pain. They didn't see her cry, but Fjord knows there's pain that no tears can begin to express. He didn't cry after losing Vandren and he didn't cry after losing Jester, but both times felt as if something had been ripped out of his guts by a hungry gnoll.

And yet, despite the pain that he knows their visit must bring, Marion Lavorre welcomes them with a smile and warmth in her eyes. The pleasantries are short, no one is sure of what to say, they all dance ungracefully around the real subject of their visit: the anniversary of Traveler Day, how Jester had excitedly called it. Fjord takes the lead because he figures he owes it to their missing friend. He asks Marion how she's doing, makes sure no one is bothering her anymore, restates the promise he made two years ago to look after her and help her in any way they can, any way  _he_ can.

"You're as kind as ever," Marion says, smiling softly at him, "but I am alright. Having you here is already a very sweet thing to me."

Fjord ducks his head, avoiding her eyes. He can't look at them anymore, not without seeing the mirror of the pain that eats him inside, not without thinking of the promise he made and failed to keep, not without wishing he'd find anger in them rather than comprehension.

"Well, then, we won't take any more of your time," Fjord says, with a stiff bow.

"Nonsense," Marion shakes her head, "I am happy to have you here. I will see that your rooms are ready for the night."

"Ma'am, we-we wouldn't wanna abuse of your hospitality, we'll be on our way as soon as-"

"Please, none of that," behind the Ruby of the Sea's gentleness there's a hint of authority. "My Jester cared so much about you. The least I can do is make sure her friends have proper accommodations. You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay."

"I- thank you," Fjord manages to say, biting down on every complain he has about not deserving that kind of attention from her because the last thing he wants to do is slight her.

They make their way down to the bar, sit around the very same table they used the first time they visited. Jester's sit, the one she sat on that time, stays empty for no reason other that no one can bring themselves to take the place. Their spirits are down tonight, heavy with memories and the voice missing from the circle. They try, though. Fjord makes sure to talk to everyone, at least to check on how they are doing, take care for them. Caduceus offers words of comfort and resignation, as he has been doing since the day they lost her. Beau buys round after round of drinks and makes a toast in Jester's memory, speaking sweetly of her in a way Fjord's never heard her talk about anyone else. Nott recounts old stories of their detective shenanigans, but sadness taints her voice before she can finish them and she ends up falling as quiet as Caleb and Yasha, who've been practically non-verbal since the morning.

One by one, they take their leave to go to bed, until it's only him and Beau sitting at the table, nursing new drinks.

"How you doing there, Fjord?" Beau finally asks. "I feel like you've been so busy trying to look after all of us, that you've kinda forgotten to check in on yourself. You know what I mean?"

Fjord huffs a laugh at her lack of tact and shakes his head.

"I'm fine, Beau."

"Bullshit." Her blue eyes are set on him as if she could pierce through any mask he dared put on. "Look, man, I haven't been extracting the truth from people for years for you to try such a lame lie on me now. Do I have to use my cobalt knuckles on you?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't," he grimaces.

"Then, talk to me."

"What do you want me to say, Beau? I'm- I can't stop thinking about it. And it's not just today, it's all the time. You'd think I'd be used to losing people by now, right? Vandrin, Molly, _her_... but this is different. I keep going through that day, asking myself what I could've done differently, how I could have stopped it. It's like this-this hole in my chest, and no matter what we do or where we go, it doesn't go away. Somedays... somedays I think I hear her, just talking away as she used to do on the road, and I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind. I'm just- I can't stop thinking that I failed her."

"Fjord, you didn't fail her."

"Didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," Beau says softly, "and you gotta stop blaming yourself, man. I mean, she said 'oh, hey, I'm going to go see some followers of the traveler today, see you later!'. How were we supposed to know she was gonna fucking disappear like that?"

"We shouldn't have left her go alone," Fjord says, and those words have been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit. "I shouldn't-"

"You didn't know."

"I  _should_ have known!" He snaps, more at himself than at Beau, and is incredibly grateful that she doesn't even flinch. "I mean, fuck, Beau, she was willing to go all the way to Rexxentrum to the Academy with me, she followed me to the bottom of the goddamn ocean to activate some weird freaking temple, she was there the whole time and the  _one time_ she needed me to follow her and I... I didn't. I should've been there."

"Yeah, and then maybe you would've both gone missing," Beauregard points out, arching an eyebrow. "What good would that do?"

 _Plenty good,_ Fjord thinks. At least he would  _know_ what happened that way. At least he would be with her, able to help her if she needed him. Maybe things would've been different like that. Even disappearing into oblivion would be better than carrying this guilt inside him the rest of his life.

"Stop that!" A bullet-fast hand slaps him in the back of the head. 

" _What?"_

"Stop thinking like that!" Beau frowns at him. "You know Jester wouldn't want you to be brooding over her, right?"

"You kidding?" Fjord laughs again, though his voice sounds broken even to his own ears. "She'd be furious at me. She would probably hate me right now. I-I mean, you remember how she got after the dragon? She  _hated_ me for disappearing on her like that. I promised myself I would never leave her like that again, and then when she needed me..."

"First of all, you didn't leave her, dude. _She_ left _us_ ," the monk's voice is tainted by a little resentment that's all too familiar to him, but it softens immediately, anger melting into sadness. "And second, Jester  _loved_ you, Fjord. She would never hate you, no matter what. She would want you to be happy."

"Well, tough luck," he grumbles, burrowing his face into his drink. 

How is he supposed to be happy like this? It's not fair, he realizes, but he's suddenly angry at Jester —at the idea of her— insisting he be happy when she isn't around. It's just cruel, like feeding a starving man and then hoping he's satisfied for the rest of his life. For her to become the source of laughter and comfort and light in his life, only to disappear on him and leave him in the dark again, it's a cruel kind of joke.

But Jester was never one for cruel pranks.

"Alright, fine," Beau stands up, "you wanna wallow about it, be my guest. Just don't pretend to be fine, okay?"

"I am alright, Beau," he assures her. "I will be. I just... I need another drink, then I'll head up to bed."

"Knock yourself out," she says, squeezing her shoulder on her way out. She probably didn't mean it literally, but it's a tempting idea nonetheless. "You know, it'd be a good start to actually be able to say her name out loud," she adds cryptically before disappearing upstairs.

With a heavy sigh, he rolls his eyes and orders another drink. The golden drink gives him a distorted version of his own reflection but he's still able to recognize the judgment in his own eyes. The Chateau is empty tonight, aside from him. Marion canceled her weekly performance, probably to mourn the memory of her daughter in private. He briefly considers joining her, hoping to offer some new words of comfort, or at the very least quiet company, but he's too much of a coward to face her again. There's something in her face that terrifies Fjord profoundly, a pain too similar to his own, a loss that he has no claim to. 

"Fuck," he sighs. "I-I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to do this without you. I miss you... every day. We all do."

 _Fjord!_ He swears he hears her voice in his head, clear as water, as if not a day had gone by. The memory makes his chest flinch with pain, like an old wound tearing back open, and he hates his brain for conjuring such a bittersweet sound to torture him. Except... that's not all. It goes on.  _Hey, so I just came back from Traveler Day, but I couldn't find you guys at the inn. Did you go somewhere without me?_

The world comes crashing down around him, time seems to stop, his heart forgets how to beat for half a second and then picks up at full speed. Fjord darts to his feet, knocking over the chair and nearly spills his drink, as the one word that has been banned from his lips for exactly two years returns to him, along with laughter, and blue oceans, and the smell of cinnamon:

" _Jester?!"_


	2. Hearing Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes our heads can fuck with us, make us hear or see things we've lost. It does not do well to dwell on those ghosts, even in our dreams. Believe me."

"Beau! Beau!" Fjord screams as he runs upstairs, not caring if he wakes every single patron sleeping in the Lavish Chateau.

He catches up to her in the hallway just outside her bedroom door. Her eyes are red rimmed and she looks slightly dazed as he reaches her and grabs her shoulders.

"She's back! She just messaged me!"

"What? Who?" 

"Jester! She- She just messaged me. I don't know how, but-"

"Fjord..." Beau's eyes are sad as she looks at him, as if he'd finally lost his mind.

_You sound very excited to see me, Fjord,_ Jester's voice is playful and teasing in a way so familiar that he feels his throat close painfully. _Did you miss me a lot? It's been so much fun, I have so much to tell_

It takes him a moment to find his voice. He's still holding on to Beau, like Caleb does, like a blind man needing her to hold himself up.

"Jester, where are you? What happened? We have- we have been looking for you. Are you alright?"

_Yeah, of course I'm fine!_ She laughs in his head and relief washes over him, so overpowering that his knees all but give up under him. Afraid of crushing Beu, he leans on the wall as Jester goes on. _I'm back in Zadash, right outside the Pillowtrove. Where are you guys? I can catch up with you if you-_

Fjord shakes his head, trying to keep up with her.

"You-you are in Zadash? We... We are in Nicodranas."

"Dude, what's going on?" Beau looks increasingly worried.

_Nicodranas?!_ Jester voice, shocked and mortified. _You are in Nicodranas?! Why?! How did you guys get there so fast? Why did you leave without me?!_

She thinks they left her. _Fuck_.

"It's a long story, Jester. I promise, I will explain everything, okay? Just, please, stay there and wait for us. We are coming to you."

"Fjord, what the hell, man? What's going on?"

"I need Caleb," he says, standing up and stalking down the hallway.

_O-Okay_ , Jester's voice sounds smaller this time, _I guess... I guess I can stay here for a little while until you guys get back. Do you promise-_

He doesn't have to hear the rest to guess it.

"I promise, Jester. I'm coming. Just please, _please_ , don't go running away on me, yes? Stay put. If you need something, go to the Gentleman. I'm coming."

He knocks frantically on Caleb and Nott's bedroom until it opens wide and he's met with Caleb's tired and exasperated eyes.

"Vas?" He snaps.

"Jester. Jester's back," he announces breathless.

"What do you mean back?" Nott asks, peeking from behind Caleb's leg. "Back from where?"

"I- I don't know, but I heard her. She's alright. She's in Zadash. Do you... Do you have any way to get there faster? Any- any arcane tricks? Can you send me there or-"

"Fjord..." Caleb's eyes are sad, with a particular shadow he's grown to recognize darkening his features. "Sometimes our heads can fuck with us, make us hear or see things we've lost. It does not do well to dwell on those ghosts, even in our dreams."

"I wasn't fucking sleeping. I'm telling you, I heard her."

"What's going on?" Caduceus asks, walking out of his room, pink hair tied high on his head and chest bare to counter the coast's heat.

"Jester's back. She- she messaged me."

There's no doubt in the firblog's face. A smile breaks through his features and his shoulders relax by his sides.

"That is wonderful news. Very, very good. Is she alright?"

As soon as he gets Clay's approval, everyone else seems to wake up around him. They shower him with questions that he barely understands. 

"She's- I think so. She says she's in Zadash, that she just came back from Traveler Day. She- she was asking about us not being in the Pillowtrove."

"So she doesn't know she's been gone," Cad sighs, brow furrowing slightly. "Well, then, we'll have to explain."

"Fuck," Beau sighs. "That's gonna be a tough one."

"We need to get to Zadash," Caleb pulls out a book from his holster.

"You sleep with that thing on?" Beau asks.

"Ja."

"So should we ready the horses?" Nott asks, tying her hair up into a ponytail.

"Nein," Caleb flips through his pages vigurously. "There's another way. Faster. I just need to..."

"The sigil in the Cobalt Soul library," Beau blinks.

"Ja."

"Do you remember it?"

"You know I do. I just want to double check the spell."

"What does that do?" Fjord asks, looking at the humans with his heart beating frantically in his chest. Every second that passes, he struggles to convince himself that he wasn't imagining things. "How soon can we get there?"

"Tonight," Caleb says, firmly, looking up at Fjord and he feels something in his chest expand.

_We are coming, Jester. I'm coming._


	3. Ghosts From The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You think she’s really there?” Beau whispers.
> 
> “Not really,” Nott says quietly.
> 
> “Maybe,” offers Caduceus. 
> 
> Fjord doesn’t know what he expects. He knows what he hopes for, but that is a feeling he gave up on a good while ago.
> 
> “Only one way to find out,” he says, voice steady, and walks in.

Showing up unannounced to a library full of ass-kicking monks in the middle of the night is, in retrospect, a terrible idea. Even with Beau interceding —and their history as war heroes— it takes around half an hour to talk their way out of trouble. Fjord is not much help, if he is being honest he only makes things worse. He’s on edge, anxious to get going and get some damn answers for once, so perhaps he summons the falchion and threatens to open his way out of this damn place by any means necessary.

“Mein Freund, I understand your impatience,” Caleb says once they are making their way down the dark city streets, “but perhaps you could use a little... uh...”

“Chill?” Beau chimes in.

“Ja.”

Fjord pins them both with a firm look, jaw clenched and falchion still firm in his tight grip.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Beau raises both hands. 

“Jeez, Fjord, I thought we’d gotten over the whole going dark thing after we dealt with Uk’otoa,” Nott grumbles, taking a swing of her flask. 

With a sigh, Fjord slows down and drops his shoulders, weapon vanishing into thin air. 

“Sorry. I’m just... anxious to see this through, I guess.”

“You do get grumpy when you’re feeling stressed,” Caduceus notes, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

The lingering tension fades away from his body and he nods. They start walking again and a couple minutes later the Pillowtrove appears around the corner. Fjord’s stomach knots tightly but he forces himself to keep moving forward. 

“You think she’s really there?” Beau whispers.

“Not really,” Nott says quietly.

“Maybe,” offers Caduceus. 

Fjord doesn’t know what he expects. He knows what he  _hopes_ for _,_ but that is a feeling he gave up on a good while ago.

“Only one way to find out,” he says, voice steady, and walks in. 

The warmth of the fancy Inn hugs their skin as they walk in, music from a far-off piano floats in the air with a melancholic tune, and the smell of food and mead would usually make his stomach growl with hunger. Today, though, none of those things register in Fjord’s head. He heads straight to the stairs and climbs the steps two at a time. 

“What- what room were we staying in that time?”

“That one,” Caleb points. 

Beau rushes past them all, fast as the wind, and knocks aggressively on the door. An eternal minute goes by before the handle turns and a sleepy blue face appears, rubbing at her eyes.

“That was very loud, Beau,” Jester grumbles.

“Jessie,” Beauregard throws herself forward and hugs the tiefling, that groans playfully and pats her in the back.

“Hi, Beau.”

“Jester! Move, move, move,” Nott pushes her way in between the two other girls and wraps herself around her waist. “I missed you.”

“Oh, Nott, I missed you too!” Jester bends down to hold her. “I was only gone for a day, though.”

“Well..”

“Jester,” Caleb sighs.

“Wait, how did you guys get here that fast?” Jester is still grinning at them. “Why did you go all the way to Nicodranas? How did you get here so quickly?” 

“I’ve... picked up some new skills,” Caleb shrugs. 

“You too?” She chuckles and claps. “That’s so cool! But when did you-  _Fjord!_ Your tusks!”

He’s been so busy trying to process, to take in every little detail of the scene in, that he is startled by her sudden closeness, her hands around his jaw as she pulls him down to take a better look at the pair of teeth that peek out of his lower lip.

“When did they- how did they- It’s so cool! How did they grow so fast?! Did you do some magic cool stuff? Was it the Traveler? Did you eat like a magic tusk growing potion or something?”

“Jes- Jes- Jester,” he struggles to break through her stream of words, grabbing her wrists to free himself and pull back a little. She’s smiling at him, up close, vibrating with energy just like he remembered her, physical in his grasp, alive,  _here._ His thoughts crash and collide and all he can do is blink and mumble a quiet. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she chuckles, eyes bright with excitement. “So? How did you do it.”

“Well, he had two years to grow them,” Nott says.

“What? Two years?” Jester laughs. “No way, Nott. I was only gone for, like, a day.”

“Jess,” Beau sighs, “you were gone  _gone.”_

“I mean, technically, I guess yes I was, technically, but it was only a couple hours,  _for sure._ It’s not like I was gone for a very long time, Beau. I mean, I know you probably missed me a lot, probably, and it must have felt like forever because I am so cool and stuff, but it was just a day... right?”

Even as she rambles, Fjord can see realization dawn on her face. Her enthusiasm fades away as her words progress and a sense of tension begins building in her voice. Her tail swings behind her, at a pace he knows by heart even if he hasn’t seen it in years. 

“I’m sorry, Jester,” Caleb says, stepping forward and resting his hands on her shoulders. Frumpkin appears and starts purring against her ankles, but she pays no mind to it, eyes set on the wizard. “It has been two years. We did not know where you had gone. We... we tried to find you, but we couldn’t.”

Over time, Fjord has gotten better at reading his friends. Not as much as Caduceus, of course, but enough to tell some things, like the way Caleb’s voice is weighed down by guilt. Fjord guesses the mage blames himself for not being able to find Jester, now that they have proof she’s been alive somewhere all along. He knows because the same guilt has been eating his insides from the first second he heard her voice in her head.

“I- I was gone?” Jester squeaks. 

“It appeared so, yes,” Caduceus says calmly, “though perhaps you were just lost for a little while. Not too long. It is good to have you back.” 

He can see her face crumble, the last pieces of her happy mask falling apart one by one as she takes in the information. 

“We really tried to find you,” Nott whispers. 

Jester isn’t looking at her, though. Her eyes are set on Fjord, violet gems searching his face for the truth, for confirmation or denial. There is absolute trust in that look, something he used to take for granted, something he used to  _rely_ on when the world was falling apart around him, something that feels like a gulp of fresh water for a dying castaway.

He wishes he could lie to her, soften the blow, craft one of the lies that have so masterfully saved his and his friends' lives more times than he can count, but he can’t. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be pinned by those big bright eyes, how his silver tongue melts under the heat of her belief in him. He could never lie to her. 

“ _Jester_ ,” he sighs, her name rolling off his lips like a prayer. “It’s been two years.”

“Oh,” she freezes and seems to shrink a couple inches right before their eyes. “ _Oh._ Oh, no.”


End file.
